“He
is poor today, but not because one has taken everything away from him; he has
thrown away everything. What is that to him? He is used to finding things. It
is the poor who misunderstand his voluntary poverty.” — Friedrich Nietzsche.
At the tone, our days begin —
a
text-book case of addiction;
we
turn the key, we flip the dial,
the
meter’s running all the while;
next
thing, we’re reaching for some things
designed
to mitigate mood swings;
and
once we get them satisfied,
new
things replace the things supplied.
There’s
things since purchased since forgot
and stuff we left
somewhere to rot;
we’ve made attempts to
do with less
but
none of that proved a success.
Our
stuff accumulates all day
but
disappears as soon we pay;
by
lunch it’s all running on low
except
the stuff that’s just for show;
and
by the time we’re driving home
all
that’s left is the packing foam.
It
seemed important, all of this,
whatever
was that last purchase;
we
go to bed and dream of stuff —
there
wasn’t time for one more puff.
Where
does our stuff go when we die
and
what about new stuff to buy?
© 2025 C. Kurtz.